


A Korean and a Redneck Walk into a Bar

by blindgumby (walkydeads)



Series: Some Stupid Cosmic Joke [1]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Confident Glenn, Confused Daryl, Douchebag's what I meant, Gay Bar, Homophobia, Homophobic douchebag Merle Dixon, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre Apocalypse Canon Compliant AU, Racist Language, Racist douchebag Merle Dixon, Recreational Pot Smoking, gay kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkydeads/pseuds/blindgumby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl thinks Merle's gone to an Atlanta gay bar to antagonize the patrons. Like the dutiful brother he is, he obligates himself to swing by and keep him out of trouble. Only Merle's not there and Glenn is. And Glenn might just want to kiss him a little...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Korean and a Redneck Walk into a Bar

They meet at a gay bar two weeks before the end of the world.

It sounds like a set up for a bad joke. But if by some miracle it really is just a joke, Daryl Dixon is waiting with bated breath for the punchline.

Going back to that day, three or four Fridays ago (maybe five? he can’t keep track anymore), he knows retrospectively that it would have been so easy to just walk away. When Merle got drunk and pissy at the bartender at Applebee’s for cutting him off and having a lisp, opted to go do ‘a little fag bashing’ but vowed to be back before the ‘sissy’s’ shift was over with a vengeance. As usual, this left Daryl to pay the tab and apologize for his brother’s behavior. He should have just let that be the end of it, tracked Merle down and dragged his stupid ass home.

But, of course, then he just had to double back because he realized he didn’t really know where gay people hung out in this part of Atlanta and he needed to figure out where Merle was likely to head next. The bartender gladly gave him the information (as well as his phone number, which Daryl tried not to openly balk at) on a napkin, and Daryl stuffed it in his pocket and went on his way.

The club was shoved into the corner of a strip mall, barely recognizable if not for the neon lights overhead and the thumping bass from within. He didn’t see Merle’s hog anywhere, but the parking lot was so densely packed that he couldn’t be sure. Fraught with nervous energy, hands shaking, he takes the napkin out of his pocket and crumples it on the ground so he doesn’t forget it for Merle to find and berate him for later. After a moment of hesitation, he decides that he needs to go in and look for his brother. Just to be on the safe side.

The bouncer waved the cover fee because Daryl’s just ‘so cute’ and his stomach lurched, his heart pounded. He shouldn’t be anywhere near a place like this and neither should his damn fucking stupid brother. If Merle actually had the balls to go to a place like this, he deserved to get his ass thrown in jail. But then, just outside the entryway, beyond the girl who checked his ID with a raised eyebrow when she reads his birthdate, things seem… not so bad, maybe.

The dance floor, lined with neon purple piping, was packed, throngs of men and women moving together, some dancing with members of the opposite sex and some dancing with the same. It almost seemed like a normal nightclub, like the kind they went to in Daytona when Merle wanted to go to a Nascar race and then ‘get his beach on and try to catch him some fine Floridian tail’ (the only thing he ended up getting was sunburn and a really bad case of the clap). Only difference was in the couples, the people sitting at booths or standing off in corners making out, because they were all men kissing other men.

Daryl’s never seen something like this, never been to a place like this. And granted, he’s never wanted to, but still. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. The strobe lights and impossibly loud music were probably numbing him to the whole experience, he decided. And even though he didn’t see Merle’s Harley and even though a glance over the place didn’t reveal any distincively tall and vocal redneck bigots, Daryl decided he might as well pass through to the bar and stay for a drink. Just to be sure.

The manliest thing they had on tap is Bud Light, and the shirtless dude at the bar looked at him like he’s crazy when he ordered it, but complied anyway. Daryl hoped he didn’t look propositional. He realized a little too late that the sleeveless flannel shirt probably wasn’t the best move on his part and he might want to update his wardrobe because tops like that seem to be en vogue here. But in the meantime, he kept his back to the crowd on the dance floor and moved to the corner of the bar once he got his drink, nursing his cup and hoping that he wouldn’t be bothered and could just… observe for a bit.

That, of course, was when the kid saddled up to him.

Even now, Daryl’s pretty sure that the act wasn’t deliberate from the get go. The kid had peeled himself out of the throng of people on the dance floor, looking surprisingly normal in Daryl’s peripheral vision in just a t-shirt, baseball cap and jeans. He took the baseball cap off to wipe some sweat from his brow, which took Daryl by surprise.

It seemed a little stupid once he actually thought it, but it never occurred to him before that someone could be two different minorities at once. You were either Asian or gay. Maybe that was because Merle only had the brain capacity to take digs at one minority at a time. But either way, the kid looked almost too young to be there, so when he ordered his drink with confidence and tossed a smile Daryl’s way before he flicked the decorative umbrella out of it and threw it back in one gulp, it caught Daryl off guard. He stuck his eyes to the bar and continued to nurse his now lukewarm beer.

“Hey,” The kid said, and it took Daryl a second to realize he was talking to him. And his knee jerk reaction was to tell the kid to fuck off. To say something Merle would say. But he realized that he was grossly outnumbered here, and some of the bigger guys could definitely beat his ass no matter how ashamed of the fact he was, and he should probably just try to lay low and be civil.

“Hey,” he replied, half into his beer.

“You here alone?” The question put Daryl on edge, but it wasn’t asked in a way that made him think the kid was propositioning him, so he nodded.

“You?”

The kid grinned, his eyes creased in a way that reminded Daryl of something nice that he couldn’t quite put into words. “I’m here with friends,” he said emphatically, as if he wasn’t used to having friends and it almost melted Daryl’s heart. He could relate to that. “I’ve never been to a place like this before. I’m from Macon and it’s not the type of place to um. Well, it’s not very friendly to people who are different, you know?”

Daryl nodded, not really knowing anything. “I’ve never been to a place like this either,” he commented, though he wasn’t sure why. It was like an admission to something, but he wasn’t quite sure what, “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“What’s your name?” The kid asked, turning towards him.

He knew then he should make up a fake name or drown the rest of his bud and make an excuse to leave. His heart was still racing and his lungs felt tight and he had no idea why he was so afraid yet so unwilling to just walk away. He was on the edge of something he probably really didn’t want to acknowledge. But the kid was being so nice. Not touching him, not invading his space, not being crass, not pressing boundaries. Just asking for a name. Just one person to another. There was nothing wrong with that. So he swallowed another gulp of beer before saying, “I’m Daryl.”

“Daryl,” the kid said a few times, apparently testing the weight of the name on his tongue, “My name’s Glenn. It’s nice to meet you, Daryl.”

Daryl nodded in lieu of saying ‘nice to meet you too,’ which he felt would have been pushing things for some reason, or would have sounded incredibly lame. He downed the rest of his beer and ordered another despite his earlier assertion of one drink. He hadn’t even looked for Merle since this kid showed up, and he probably wouldn’t feel hard pressed to walk away even if Merle stormed through the door then and there. This Glenn guy was nice. Daryl hadn’t met anyone like that in a long time.

After a minute, Glenn fiddling with the straw of his second drink and Daryl watching his slowly lose carbonation, the younger asked, “So do you wanna dance?”

That was when everything came unraveled, when his heart went from racing to silent, and Daryl began to feel his skin prickle like it did when the bartender at Applebee’s gave him  
his number. Why did everyone assume that about him? It wasn’t like he was some walking flamboyant and feminine stereotype, but then… neither was this kid, come to think of it. Still. “I’m not…” he trailed off, realizing a little too late that claiming to not be gay while at a gay bar would probably be waste of his efforts, “I’m not a very good dancer.”

“Ah, that’s okay, neither am I. Or anybody else here, really. Unless that’s your way of telling me to screw off, in which case I will.”

And there again, had been another glaring opportunity for Daryl to nod and stare down at his beer until Glenn left and then bolt. It was getting late, and Daryl really ought to make sure his brother didn’t harass that bartender after his shift. He shouldn’t let Merle get his ass in trouble again because he’d be the one posting bail again and that shit was really starting to eat at his wallet. But instead, he said, “I… no, I like talking to you. You’re alright, you know. I’ve never actually spoken to a gay guy before, but you’re nothing like I thought you’d be. I just… can’t dance.”

“Never spoken to a…” Glenn trailed off for a minute before chuckling, “Well, I’ve never spoken to someone who looked like you before, either. Usually out of fear of getting scalped or otherwise getting the shit beat out of me.”

“It’s alright, you can call me a redneck. ‘s not like I haven’t heard it before,” Daryl grinned despite himself.

“But you’re not. Your average redneck wouldn’t be caught dead in here, even though I’m told it’s not so bad as far as gay bars go. I don’t know, I was dancing with my friends, you know, and then I just… saw you. And you looked kinda scared. I know what it’s like to be new to the scene and to not really know anyone else like you. Everyone I’m with today is folks I met in an online community,” Glenn shrugged and then bit his lip, as if he were worried about talking too much.

“It’s not… it’s not like that,” Daryl hesitated. Telling Glenn he was tailing his brother in case he decided to lay a twink out or something was beginning to seem more and more ill advised, even though Glenn assumed him gay. In fact, given the current situation, letting Glenn think that was preferable. Being a straight guy skulking by the bar felt like an inexplicably bad thing to be in this situation, and he found Glenn interesting.

“Okay. You wanna go outside then? Straining to hear you is giving me a goddamn headache.”

Daryl nodded and gulped down the rest of his flat ass beer, settled his tab, and followed the kid to an outdoor smoking area. It was empty but nice, a small outdoor garden complete with benches and shrubbery.

He was only a little surprised when the kid took a joint out of his pocket and offered it to him. Daryl took it with only the barest hesitation. As he exhaled and passed it back, he said conversationally, “You on anything else?”

“Nah, I’m the one playing it safe tonight. The wasted equivalent of a designated driver, without the driving or whatever. Why?” Glenn asked, blowing the smoke out in rings.  
“Just wondering why the hell you’d wanna talk to someone like me,” Daryl chuckled, refusing the joint as Glenn offered it again. Glenn shrugged and took another hit, holding it in for a few seconds.

“You’re hot,” Glenn said and Daryl felt like going into hysterics on the spot. Hot? Him? This kid had to be on something else. “And I’m doing this thing lately where I try things I usually wouldn’t. Doing what I want to do without thinking. Without worrying about the consequences.”

“How’s that working out for you so far?” Daryl asked dryly.

“Eh, so-so,” Glenn says with a wave of his hand. He offers the joint again, and this time Daryl accepts, “On the one hand, I came out and dropped out of college in the same week so it’s probably going to be a while before my parents decide to talk to me again. And I’ve almost been arrested half a dozen times. Plus my job is kinda lame. But on the other hand, I’m having a pretty damn good night.”

“Me too,” Daryl admits, exhaling a cloud of smoke, feeling the familiar tingle under his skin, “Well it started out kinda shitty. I really didn’t expect to be alright with this place the way I am. It’s not really my scene.”

“Mine either, but you know, with the group and all. I figured it’d be less awkward with them if we didn’t have to talk much. But now things might seem awkward because I ditched them to hang out with you,” Glenn scratched the back of his neck, snuffing out what little was left of the joint after Daryl passed it back.

Daryl was beginning to feel kind of alright with this whole situation. Glenn was alright. The club was alright. He hadn’t been accosted or felt up or approached by anyone he didn’t want to talk to. He even had the feeling that if he turned Glenn down, he’d go right back to the dancefloor without a fuss, which was a good feeling to have about someone. Especially being so used to Merle’s pushy and insistent nature.

So when Glenn asked, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?” Daryl actually thought about it for a moment. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. What would one kiss be, really?  
“I’ve never… with another guy before,” Daryl admitted, “Never anything. This’ the first time I’ve even…thought about it, you know?”

“I know,” Glenn sighed softly, almost as if he were admonishing himself, “I understand. I really do, it’s cool. I just. Didn’t think it would hurt to ask.”

“Didn’t hurt. Never been asked before, ‘s kinda nice,” Daryl grinned at him, and then impulsively leaned closer to him, “And I never really said I didn’t want you to, did I?”

Glenn blinked at him for a moment, his cheeks tinging with pink. And despite the part of himself that wanted to run and the other part that was yelling at him for even entertaining the thought of something like this, Daryl sincerely found it cute. So much so that he reached up to touch Glenn’s cheek. Which led to him cradling his face with one hand. Gently removing his baseball cap with the other. Leaning forward. And —-

They were kissing. It was an abrupt mash of lips at first, but then Glenn tilted his head slightly and smoothed his lips against Daryl’s, gently encouraging him to do the same and after a few seconds, Daryl felt giddy. The pressure was nice, the tension was nice. The little breaths Glenn took were nice.The way their noses bumped was nice. Glenn’s fingers curled uselessly against his shirt were nice. Daryl’d only kissed a handful of girls in his life and they were all alright, he supposed. Glenn was the first boy. And everything about it was just… nice in a way he hadn’t felt before.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since they’d started to kiss, but they separated abruptly when someone else came out onto the awning, a group of three or four people who barely spared them a glance as they all lit up.

Glenn outright laughed, muttering, “Wow, that was… wow.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. He felt paralyzed. In a good way. Scary, but good.

More people poured outside, some of them apparently from the group Glenn was with as they waved at him. Another addition stumbled over to Glenn’s side, “Hey man,” he slurred, “Where you been all night? Come back inside, things are just starting to pick up.”

Glenn turned back to Daryl and Daryl half-grinned, “It’s okay. I should probably take off anyway. Make sure my brother hasn’t got himself into trouble.”

“Alright. But I’ll be in town the rest of the weekend, you think maybe we could… hang out or something?”

Daryl swallowed, feeling suddenly uneasy, “Yeah, I mean. Maybe. Yeah.”

“Cool,” Glenn said, reaching for another napkin. “Let me give you my number.”

After pressing the napkin into Daryl’s palm and pressing a kiss to his cheek, Glenn waved goodbye and went back in, straight for the dancefloor. Daryl sighed, crumpled the napkin in his fist, and let it fall to the ground just like the first. He actually wasn’t creeped out by Glenn. And honestly, he kind of liked him. But that was just as much of a problem, if not more so, than him being a huge creep. Merle couldn’t know, but there was no way he could duck Merle indefinitely. He knew that would tear them apart, and he couldn’t afford that. Merle was all he had.

To be fair, he didn’t think he’d ever have to see Glenn again. Never thought he’d have to live with the guy he’d never even called. Never thought he’d be hunting and killing walkers to feed and protect the source of his secret shame. Never thought he’d have to see the pain and disappointment in his eyes that rivaled the pain and disappointment Daryl had felt the next time Merle jokingly called him a faggot.

Maybe that itself, he thinks, is the punchline.


End file.
